Page 54 of A Seed Of Peril

“I don’t want a story tonight.”

Looking back at her books, I was a little bummed I wasn’t reading to her but also kind of selfishly thankful because a warm bubble bath and an early night was calling my name.

Speaking of stories, I heard some doozies at the party. Apparently, Stefano’s right hand, Ivan Braccia, beat a man to death with his own prosthetic leg that he originally lost after a tango with his chainsaw.

Thank God I’d developed an iron stomach over the years.

“Do you just want to hit the hay, too?” I asked as I placed tomorrow night’s story choice on top of that spot of books on the shelf so I wouldn’t forget.

“I want you to be my mom.”

Stunned, I turned around to see Katrina fighting tears. I heard them caught in her throat. She sat on the mattress with her legs crossed, hugging Mr. Cat.Why was she sad? Was she grieving Maria again?She was her usual self at the party, but I sensed a shift when we took her out for her birthday dinner. I thought maybe she was grumpy from being tired.

She cried into her stuffed animal, mumbling something else, but I couldn’t understand what. I hurried over to her and sat along the side of the bed, taking her into my arms. That was when the dam broke. Katrina’s loud crying gutted me. I rubbed circles on her back, doing my best to soothe her, reminding her to take a breath when she ended up choking and coughing through the weight of her cries.

It warmed my heart to be appreciated and wanted in such a way, but it cracked and split at her pain and that particular loneliness I was all too familiar with. I had cried myself to sleep wishing for mine, just as Katrina had. I was that same mournful, little girl who listened for hours to see if my mother would miraculously walk through the front door, except I wasn’t mourning the living. My mother didn’t choose to leave my life. The rejection and self-blame Katrina must’ve felt… It was unimaginable.

“Can you be my mom?” she begged.

Holding back my own threat of tears, I kissed her head, gently rocking in place. I cradled the side of her head in my hand, holding her to my chest. I wanted her pain to be mine. Her heartbreak. Her fear and, undoubtedly, her feeling of abandonment.

“If that’s truly what you want, then I’d be honored to be your mom, but just know, it’s okay if you ever change your mind.”

She sniffed. “Can I call you mom?”

I moved so I could tuck my fingers under her chin and tilt her head up, angling it so she could look at me. “You can call me whatever you’re comfortable calling me.”

She cracked a smile so slightly, I almost missed it before she moved away from my hand to once again curl herself against my chest, sniffling.

“I love you, Mommy.”

“I love you too, baby, so, so much.”

Tuesday, February 21, 2017

Becoming tired,I excused myself from spending time with my family and headed into the kitchen for my last serving of blood for the day. I was down to two bags, but I found myself craving red meat more often, preferably cooked rare. Bloody. Julie said it was normal for such a growing boy. Likethathelped my nerves.

I skipped warming the blood this evening, not in the mood for that, closing my eyes as my first sip slid deliciously down my throat. As I walked out of the pantry, I turned off the light and walked through the kitchen and into the hall, heading to Dominic’s office. I sensed something had been off all day, like he was hiding information again. He’d declined to join everyone for a family movie and card game, and Dino had even told me Dominic had a lot on his mind. I knew he meant the deal with Nico Nasuti, but… There was more to it.

These past few days, Dominic had become unusually restless at night, tossing and turning more than me. It hurt my heart watching him struggle. I wanted in his head. I wanted to carry whatever emotions he was battling. I hated watching him navigate his internal battles alone.

As I reached the top of the stairs, I could hear faint music coming from his office. Was he…? The closer I got, the more familiar the pleasant crescendo sounded. Notes from Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata spilled into the hallway as I gently opened the door. I quietly stepped inside the office, standing just past its threshold, in awe.

Lost in the haunting opus, Dominic kept his head low, swaying with the music. Shoulders slouched, he worked the keys like the master of his craft that he was. My presence didn’t appear to bother him. I closed the door as quietly as I could, staying near it.

He switched between slouching and sitting up straight, depending on the intensity of the notes. For softer notes, he seemed to caress the piano keys, handling his instrument with poignancy and grace. I wanted to close my eyes and immerse myself in the music, but Dominic captivated me too much for that to happen. Carefully lifting his wrists, he pressed harder on the keys as the notes strengthened and sharpened, wrapped up in the emotion and passion he was lost in. Throughout the difficulties of the melody, he maintained control.

Normally, he was the king of his castle, but in this time and space, Dominic exposed his vulnerability, and it was beautiful. His spirit shone with peace. Joy. Light instead of darkness.

I looked down at my belly, watching my son’s movements slow down, catching on to the fact that what was one of Beethoven’s most famous pieces had a calming effect. The way his daddy recreated the sonata relaxed him. I smiled. Dominic gained another fan.

Coming into more settled notes, Dominic neared the end of the sonata. Sitting straight, he pressed the proper keys, the final note fading as he released the keys until there was only silence. He opened his eyes, keeping his head down.

Taking a few steps further into the room, I said, “I hope I didn’t interrupt.” Our son kicked, back to becoming active.

Lifting his head, Dominic stared ahead, easing back into the present. “No.” He almost looked lost, but that left his eyes as fast as it snuck into them. He then turned his head, our eyes meeting.

I caressed my belly. “We’re disappointed you stopped playing.”

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